Saying Goodbye...

Rascal (Roo) was The Nurse's dog before we met, and he came to her as a puppy 12 years ago. Best we can tell, he is a labrador retriever-husky mix, with his jovial personality, the shedding of hair like glitter at a drag show, and his boisterous bark that regularly reverberates the walls of our house. 

We have been suspecting the day to say goodbye would be coming for quite some time now, as Roo has been fading recently. Not wanting to eat, sleeping more, and due to a 4/5 heart murmur, he is now having difficulty breathing. 

Every good life deserves a fair death, and where the loss of this guy is going to leave a hole the size of Montana in our hearts, we know the fair thing to do is to say goodbye. 

Say a prayer, light a candle for our family today as we say goodbye to the happiest dog on the planet.

We'll see you at the bridge, Roo where you'll be waiting for us with a wagging tail and exuberant barking...

Quieting My Mind

To say I have been struggling lately would be an understatement. I just feel disconnected and spiritually unfulfilled. I have enough spiritual awareness to know that is a dangerous place for a person like me to be. My mind is my greatest muse. Fed she is lovely and tame, but not fed properly, she is like a misguided missile, darting back and forth with no method to her madness, and with no clear place to land, she has the potential to leave serious damage in her aftermath.

I'm not sure what is internally upsetting me so much except to say, I have been under a lot of personal and professional pressure as of late, and in the quest to hold all my shit together, I have realized I am doing a really bad job of being true to who I am and I'm not listening to what my body says I need to be doing. I've been living like a 9-year old kid left home alone: my boundaries are absent, I eat whatever I want, go to bed late, and spend money like it's my job.

I have reached a breaking point several times recently, and that's when it became clear, I need to quiet my mind and to just be still in order for the answers to show themselves to me. So, I have come to the mountains to reflect, to disconnect, to write and to feed my muse. I needed to remove myself from the noise, the chatter and the drama of everyday life. My phone and I needed a separation, and Facebook and I needed a break like two lovers on a 2 week cross country road trip in a Chevy Chevette in the 1980's. (Google search that car if I am showing my age by using that as a reference....)

So far, I have lived without my phone for three days. I have been writing, reading, and have not gotten out of my pajamas, except to get in and out of the hot tub. My mind is a little more clear, and I feel a little less maniacal since there are no imbecilic people on the mountain with me. I hope that I can come off this mountain with a renewed mind, and an clear understanding of what my next move should be....

Prayers for Piper, Please!

If you cracked open my chest, there on my heart, you would find the face of this little dog. 

Piper came to us from the animal shelter as a cruelty case. She had been starved and neglected to the point they thought she had dwarfism. Really what she had was bone deficiencies, from ongoing neglect, causing her legs to bow outward making her look like an old cowboy who'd been riding horses for 50 years. 

For some time I have noticed Piper limping on and off, therefore she has been through a gamut of acupuncture, chiropractic adjustments, joint supplements, and pain medication, however she is never really 100% and none of those things change the structure of her legs, which appears to be the root of the problem. Many months ago, I joked with The Nurse stating I was saving for Piper's ACL repair. Little did I know, it wouldn't be a joke because she would tear both ACL's at the same time.

This little dog has the tenacity of a tiger and a heart bigger than her melon-style head, and she has etched a solid place in our lives, all of our lives. Human and canine.... Piper was wrestling with her doggie-brother about a week ago, ran to jump on the couch, and missed the landing.

After x-rays and additional medication it has become clear that Piper needs surgery to repair the damage that life and humans have done to her legs. Tomorrow The Nurse and I will drive Piper to a respected orthopedic surgeon to have surgery on her legs. I don't know exactly what method of surgery he will choose, however given her breed and x-ray images, my guess is she will have the more complex of the 3 options. After the surgery, she will be on complete crate rest for 3 months, and we will have to strictly leash walk her. Unfortunately, because they can only do one leg at a time, she will have to have a second surgery a short time after healing from the first one.

If you wouldn't mind sending Piper some thoughts and prayers for her adventure tomorrow, we would greatly appreciate it. She's kind of a big deal.... 

Thank you Matthew....

21 years ago, I was ready to come out as being gay.  Up until this time, I had only told 2 other people I trusted about this, and was finally going to just come out of the closet.  

However, on this day 21 years ago, and innocent young man was discovered in the middle of a desolate part of Wyoming, beaten so badly, that he succumbed to his injuries just 6 days later.  His only crime? He was gay.

I remember the news that night stating his entire face was covered in blood, except for the places his tears left trails when they leaked down his cheeks. This was the first time I'd even heard about hate crimes, and the crime against Matthew Shepard would be enough to scare me into pretending to be straight for another 6 years.

I never met Matthew, however what he did in death for the equality of the LGBTQ community, will never be forgotten. Tonight I will light a candle and remember the brave young man whose life and courage in death set so many of us free....

Operation Cowboy Kindness - Mission #1 SUCCESS

Folks, I have an idea.....

Since Woody has been hanging around our house, I've had a lot of folks email me and say how refreshing it has been to share his story, and how much they have enjoyed being part of the journey.  

Folks have mentioned how the love following along, and how he has brought so much joy to their lives.  (Please remember we live in an area that was hit by massive tornadoes several months ago, and a mass shooter killed 9 people and injured several dozen just 3 weeks ago.)  But, even if they aren't local, I think people just really excited to see something positive.

Yesterday morning, I was on Facebook, and there in our local Facebook parent group was a mother who was reaching out to the community asking for us to keep a look out for her 10 year old son's beloved bicycle that had been stolen. If you know me, you know I love. love. love to give to people, so I instantly knew I wanted to do something for this young man. 

I went out to the store, and I bought that little boy a new bicycle, only I didn't do it alone.  There in the checkout line at Walmart was a kind woman who also donated to the cause.  

And that is how Operation Cowboy Kindness was born in my mind.  

What if the love, kindness and goodwill of Woody's story didn't have to end?

What if we shared Woody's mission and watched it unfold here?

I have an idea for Mission 2, and would love for a little help.  

Is there anyone else who would like to join me?

If so, click the link below....

https://www.gofundme.com/f/operation-cowboy-kindness   

A Lost Cowboy

Wednesday was like any other day for us. The Nurse and I were to leave for dog training and alas we were running late because of me. If you know us, you know I'm perpetually late for everything I do.  If you know The Nurse, you know she's on time for everything we do. So, once The Nurse wrangled me, the dog, herself, and all of our essentials into the car, we think we're on our way.  But as we're driving along, I looked to the left, and there lying in the middle of the road, on the yellow line, was a Woody doll.

I'm not sure why I stopped, other than the fact that Woody made eye contact with me, and when he did it was straight up 1995 again, and all I could remember was being Woody's "favorite deputy" many years ago. When that cowboy looked up at me, I immediately knew I had to turn around to "rescue" him.  Now, at this point, I still hadn't told The Nurse why we were turning around, just that there was something I needed to "save" in the middle of the road.  (She's used to this because I'm constantly breaking for animals, so she was probably relieved it was just a plastic doll....) After scooping him up from certain death via a minivan, The Nurse and I had a good laugh about him and continued on.

After class that night, I thought I would create a simple Facebook post about the doll, just in an attempt to locate's his owner.  In my mind, there was a small child out there who was (and still is) missing his best-friend, and I thought social media would be the best place to find this person.  I had no idea so many people would be touched by Woody and his plea to get home, but if you've seen us this week, you know the post went viral.  As of this moment, our Woody story has been picked up by 3 news channels (Ohio, Texas and Georgia), our local radio station (K99.1 FM), and has been viewed over 286,000 times.

Perhaps it was the simplicity and nostalgia of the post.
Perhaps is was the fact there are a lot of evils in the world right now.
Perhaps it's just that it's nice to see the underdog come out on top.

I don't know.

But, I can say is I'm grateful to all of you who've found us, who have showered us with love this week, and who have shared Woody's post in order to help bring him home.  He isn't there yet, but if you have seen him on Facebook, you can tell he's certainly trying!  :)

Grocery stores, kindness, and ink pens.....

Tonight I went to the grocery store.  <Please read that sentence with all the disdain you can possibly muster....> 

I HATE to grocery shop.  It drives me crazy.

First, there's the meal planning which usually involves finding a recipe.
Then there's going through the cabinets to see if you actually need everything on the list.
Then you go to the store, where people are rude, children are running around like they're on a sucrose IV drip.
You gather all of your crap in a basket, and then you wait in line for an eternity to give the cashier the monetary equivalent of one kidney.
You go out to the car pile all of your groceries into the trunk, try not to plow over the small children who are still running amuck but now in the parking lot.
You start down the road and
CRAP!
You forget something.....

This is exactly how my bi-weekly trip to the grocery trip was going, when I realized I forgot SLICED CHEESE! Now, for a minute I wagered exactly how much I needed the cheese.  And, I was having a complete conversation with myself that went a little like:

Self: "Do you need the cheese?  Like, really need the cheese?!"
Other Self: "Yes, we need the cheese!  How will we ever have a turkey sandwich without the cheese?!"
Self: "You're going to have to park the car."
Other Self: "So?!"
Self: "And walk!"
Other Self: "And?!"
Self: "Then you're going to have to locate the cheese, fight more children, and stand in line for 4 years, because you know there'll only be 2 checkout lanes open, at the most."
Other Self:  "We're pulling into the next grocery store.... This is serious shit. We need cheese!"

I walk into the grocery store, and I secure the things I need first:  cheese, enchilada sauce, cleaning supplies, and cookies for The Nurse's carry-in at work. Then I start stumbling around this large grocery store, 100% mesmerized by the fluorescent lights, and a bunch of stuff I don't really need, but want. 

And I fall down a rabbit hole.....

When I resurface, I am in the school supply section.  If you know me, you know I'm an analog whore and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE all things school supply.

I was meandering about the isles when I found a great deal on Sharpie markers.  I thought to myself: "Don't really need them.  Throw them in the cart."
Then I found some Crayola Markers on sale.  I thought to myself:  "Don't really need them.  Throw them in the cart."
Then I spotted the piece de resistance!
Felt tip markers in 16 fun colors, with a price tag of $13.99, on sale from $19.99.  SCORE!  I can't bare to spend $19.99 on pens, but for $13.99?!  Like a one-night stand in a bar in my 20's:  Those are going. home. with. me. 

Satisfied with my selections, I happily skipped to the front of the store, sidle up to the self-check out, scan my felt tip pens and whomp... whomp... whomp...

They ring up as $19.99.

I'm crushed.  

Quickly, this kind employee comes over, asks what's wrong, I explain the pens were marked $6.00 cheaper than they were ringing up.  She called all her friends, they couldn't find the pens, and the lines were growing longer, so I asked her to just take the pens off my list of transactions.  My face must have shown my disappointment though, because she insisted on making a few more phone calls, to what appeared to be the only other person working in the store.  I apologized to the folks behind me, and explained I wasn't about to pay $19.99 for ink pens, when this young man came over, asked me what the problem was, and said: "Are the ink pens on your transaction list still?"  I told him yes, explained I was going to have her take them off as soon as she returned, muttered that I didn't really need them, and apologized for holding up the line.

Out of nowhere and with the stealth of a ninja, this young man pulls out a credit card, and swipes it before I even know what has happened!  At this point,  I'm trying to explain to him that he just spent $47.00 on me, but I'm speechless. I do somehow manage to again yammer I don't need the pens.  But all I can really do is cry, hug this angelic man in a hoodie, and thank him about a hundred times.

This was the kindest thing I've had happen to me since a friend gave me tickets to a Reba McIntire concert several years ago, and I was completely blown away by his kindness and generosity. He's restored my faith in humans, especially grocery-store humans, and I hope he knows just how much his gesture meant to me.  I will never forget him and what he did.  And the pens?!  They are everything I thought they would be....

Thank you kind man at the grocery store.
You complete me!

Cheers to not quitting....

Monday I was feeling very down about my writing, to the point I'd decided to pack it up and quit. Just after I had quit,  I messaged a friend of mine to let her know how much I was enjoying her latest novel and after we chatted for a few moments I confessed I was going to quit writing because I felt like I wasn't good enough.  There was a series of messages back and forth and with some kind words, encouragement, and an offer to help read what I'd written thus far, I realized quitting wasn't really what I wanted to do.  Stepping back, I knew I was in my head and had fallen victim to the voices of self doubt.  

I guess we've all been there at some point....

Right after my friend talked me off the ledge, I flipped back over to my Facebook feed and saw a blogpost I'd written on the mass shooting in Dayton, Ohio had been shared by another friend of mine with the introduction of: " My friend is great with words.  Thank you for putting so many of my feelings into words!"

It was in that moment, I knew the universe was giving me my sign.  Keep pushing, sister.....

So here I am, on a Sunday morning, giving thanks to the incredible people in my life who remind me to look for the signs, to follow my dreams and to believe in myself.

Cheers to them!

And not quitting....

We aren't okay in Dayton.....

Photo Credit: Unknown

A week ago, a 24 year old man, walked into the Oregon District in downtown Dayton with an automatic weapon, killing 9 people while injuring over 2 dozen others.  Our hearts are heavy and our city is reeling from the pain this man has caused.  

Friday after work, I decided to drive down to the Oregon District to visit one of my favorite stores, Heart Mercantile.  They were selling t-shirts to benefit the victims of the shootings, and I greatly wanted to donate.  Upon walking the street, the feelings of sadness, and the heaviness of the week was palatable on the folks in the area.  And after hearing the 3rd or 4th well-meaning person ask: "Are you okay?" to various people, I realized I was becoming upset, and my heart could not handle another minute.   

You could see by the looks on the faces, people wanted to be alright.  Folks desperately wanted to answer that question positively, however are any of us really "okay"?  

If I was to say I was "okay",  I would be saying I wasn't hurting for the parents, children, spouses and friends of the 9 people whose lives were ended because of this monster.  

If I was to say I was "okay", I would be saying I wasn't aching for my dear friend who was there that night, fearing for her life as she heard advancing gunshots grow louder and louder.  

If I was to say I was "okay", I would be saying I wasn't agonizing over a friend who will never hug her grandson again, or another friend who will never hear her brother's corny jokes again.

If I was to say I was "okay", I would essentially be saying I feel as if our country has no gun control issues.  

Lives were eternally changed last weekend.

Families will forever feel the absence.

Perceptions of safety and fun are now permanently altered.  

Our sense of security is currently marred.

We will eventually recover.

We will go on to heal.

We will ultimately survive.

But today, and into the unforeseeable future, it's perfectly acceptable to not "be okay".

   

Making a come back, and the hope at living....

She has gained 100# this month!

Several weeks ago, one of our previous horses trotted back into our lives, and would change how I look at re-homing horses forever. 

Mia was our first horse.  I purchased her for Katzya when Katzya was 10 years old.  Mia has always been the love of our lives and the gold standard in measuring the greatness of horses whom have come after her.  Mia is kind, quiet, and is as bombproof of a horse as you can get.  As years went by, and Katzya became a more advanced rider, she outgrew Mia in terms of riding ability, not because Mia didn't have the talent, but instead that at 25 years old she just didn't deserve the wear and tear on her body.  Because having horses is expensive, I decided we would find Mia a retirement home.  In my mind it was a waste of money to pay for a horse if we weren't using it, so  I looked for the perfect home for her. 

I really did this out of a place of love, and it had been said to me that this is how things normally go.  It's pretty common place for show people to retire and re-home their previous horses, so I thought I was doing the best thing for her when trying to find a place where she would only be ridden on occasion and could offer another family the opportunity at having a safe horse.  It was supposed to benefit everyone, man and beast. 

However I now know, I failed my horse.  I let down an animal who deserved so much better of me, and who gave me all she had to give, only to be put in a situation that is going to take a year at minimum to correct and that is IF it can be corrected.

The last month has been full of veterinarian and farrier appointments, a strict food re-introduction diet, and we still don't know what the future holds for her. 

I have promised Mia that she is home to stay for good.  If she leaves again, it will be because she has taken her last breath.  A friend who has given you the best years of her life, and whom you have trusted with your child's life, deserves that and so much more.

I asked God for a sign......

A year ago today would be the last time my Dad and I took a car ride together.

A year ago today, I picked my Dad up at 5 am to take him to the Cleveland Clinic for additional testing on his heart with the hope of preparing him for surgery to relieve the pressure in his head caused by AIDS dementia.  (I bloody hate both of those words....)

A year ago today, unbeknownst to me me, time was closing in, and to be honest I really struggled all day today.

So, tonight in order to clear my head, I decided to take Fenna on a walk downtown.  On the walk, I was crying and praying, and I said aloud:  "God, I need a sign.  Lord, I want the sign to be so obvious that there is no doubt.  I need to know my dad made it to Heaven, and that he's okay.  I would give anything to see him just one more time....."

As Fenna and I approached the Hotel Gallery downtown, I noticed it was "Open Mic" night.  I paused at the doorway for a bit to listen to a few artists perform, Fenna made herself comfortable at my feet, and we stood there on the stoop, watching the entertainment take place inside.  As I was getting ready to leave, I made eye contact with the owner, gave her a friendly wave and she motioned me to come inside.  I motioned there was a dog at my feet, yet she shrugged her shoulders and waved me in even harder.  Fenna and I quickly made our way into the Gallery, quickly sat at a table in the back, and were watching the artists perform, when I looked up and there was my Dad!

And I don't mean this man looked a little like my dad, I mean, I legitimately could not tell the difference between that man and my father.  It was as if, I was watching my dad on stage perform right before my very eyes.  As I sat there astonished, watching this man sing and play the guitar, it was as if the world stopped moving, and God gave me back my Dad for just a short while.  I left before the gentleman sang his last song, mainly because I didn't want it to ever end.  I couldn't bare to say goodbye, it would have felt like I was loosing my Dad all over again.

I hear this band will be back next week to play during "Open Mic" again.
Perhaps I will go back.
Who knows, perhaps I will become a "groupie"?!

To God and my Dad, I see what you two did here tonight.
Well played boys.
Well played...  

Grow where you are planted....

One of my biggest heartaches after The Reluctant Farmer and I parted ways was that I sold my Urban Farm.  I not only lost the place that cultivated my heart, but in essence I lost my identity when I walked away from everything.  You see, my gardens weren't just a hobby.  They were a way of life.  They were who I was.  You don't sustain a family for 6-9 months of the year on the food you grow yourself and not put your entire heart and soul into it.  At some point it surpasses being just a hobby and becomes a piece of you.

Ever since The Nurse and I bought our new place, I have had visions of a new garden dancing through my head.  I measured, plotted, and planned like we were going into battle.  The only problem was, the area I had plotted in my head for a future garden was right smack dab in the center of my backyard, and after already loosing a portion of our yard for 8 months due to regrading and tiling our backyard,  I honestly just could not bear to loose anymore grass.

We have a narrow asphalt pad that runs next to our garage, so I thought about gardening in containers, but honestly it was almost an insult to where I had come from and what I was used to.

And then I had a vision......

Behind our garage was a 20ft X 20ft concrete basketball court.  We were going to tear it up eventually, but it was going to be a project in the way distant future.  The more I stared at that concrete square though, the more my vision came to fruition, and they next thing I knew, the first raised garden box was built, and then the second, and the third, and... and.... and...

I don't have nearly the space I had before, and I miss my chickens and meat rabbits, but it will come.  My goal is to work my garden this year, and possibly add some rabbits before winter.  I want to put food away, and say goodbye to the grocery store where I can.

This will be a year of learning though, because I have never planted on concrete, but grow where you are planted, right?!  Even if I don't eat anything from this garden, having dirt under my fingernails again has  returned me to a place I have missed terribly.  A place I thought I could forget, yet a place my heart demanded I return to.  God, am I grateful to cultivate again!

    

Being a Gay Christian in the United Methodist Church. What does it mean for us?!

Over the last few days, across my Facebook page, my news feed has been dominated by post after post regarding the 2019 General Conference of the United Methodist Church.  The United Methodist Church had been meeting this week to decide the future of the UMC and whether or not to uphold previous bans on gay clergy and same-sex weddings.  Today they decided to uphold the previous bans, and for a Christian-lesbian (Yes, you can be both...) it really hurt me for a minute, and I wasn't
alone.

The pain of the LGBTQ folks across the message boards has been so raw, and so real.  You can absolutely feel the pain, sadness and disappointment through the keyboard of the computer.  I've wanted to wrap my arms around so many of the hurt and struggling folks who were on these message boards, but it got me to thinking.....

The worst part of being gay for me has always come in the form of organized religion, and I found the church I attend now, when I was the securest I've ever been in my spiritual journey, but at my lowest point with organized religion.

I will never forget the first Sunday I attended church at Ginghamsburg United Methodist Church.  That day was over 9 years ago.  I rolled into that church expecting to be hated upon entering, but there was something magical happening in that place.  That Sunday, I sat in the 6th row from the front, on the end, just in case I was going to be beat with a Bible and needed a quick escape route.  I came into that church that morning, with a ninja-princess-warrior vibe, and a chip on my shoulder bigger than I had as a hormonal teenager.  I DARED God to try and convince me being in church was a good thing.  In fact, as I sat there in prayer, I sort of shrugged my shoulders, looked upward towards the Heavens, and said:  "You want me here?!  Prove you exist in these walls, because until now I have never felt you in a church.  I need a sign Lord that I can be a lesbian, a Christian, welcome in a church, and I need it to be blatantly obvious..."  (I like to keep my conversations with God super real.)

And then it happened.  This bald man, with skinny jeans and glasses walked out on the stage and started to preach.  I remember holding my breath.  It was as if this man was preaching directly to me.  I can't remember the exact sermon that day, but I can remember Pastor Mike Slaughter saying something like this: "People always want to know my views on homosexuality in this church, and I am going to say it again:  Everyone is welcome here.  Not everyone in this congregation will agree, but if we start looking at one person's sins, then we have to look at everyone's sins, and there is no one here who can say they haven't sinned.  If we single out homosexuality, we also have to single out those people who are divorced, all the way down to those people who have had speeding tickets.  I expect the homosexual members to abide by the same principles in which the heterosexual members do:  I expect them to be faithful in their marriages, tithe 10% and raise their children in the church."

So, I did, and these folks have become my family.  They are the wacky, weird, yet fun relatives that save you at boring holiday functions. Like family, we don't always get along.  We don't all have the same beliefs.  But we have traveled together, served together, laughed together, and cried together.  They have been seen me at my best and at my ugliest.  And therefore, as people are questioning where they are going after this ruling in the UMC, I have decided I am staying right where I have been.

I'm secure in my relationship with God, and my relationship with Him didn't change yesterday because of some ruling at a conference.  My faith is steadfast, He knows my heart, and despite whether a church acknowledges it or not, He made me in His image, exactly how He wanted me to be.  I go to church to enhance my spiritual walk, not for validation.  I serve, because as we all know we do greater things when we're in community, and I'm blessed that my church welcomes everyone.  If you are reading this post and you are struggling with the UMC ruling, I'm going to need you to get up, adjust your crown, and remember exactly whose child you are.  He didn't make you to hate you!

Now get out there and go be the hands and feet of Jesus.
God needs all of HIS children today more than ever.
Like seriously, get up and go right now!
 



 

Recipe: Simple Liver Dog Treats

We bought a cow to put in our freezer last Spring, and when talking with the butcher about how we wanted our meat cut, I explained to him I wanted whatever by-products I could obtain (heart, kidneys, liver, tail, etc....) as well.  I use these parts of the animal to enhance our dog’s diet and because I like to use as much of the animal as possible.  As we were making room for the winter cow, I realized I needed to hurry and do something with the organ meat I had on hand in order to free up freezer space.

So this weekend’s treat recipe is a simple recipe made out of liver.  Liver is a nutrient-rich organ meat that can provide your pup with protein, Vitamin-A, and is an excellent source of copper, iron, and Omega 3-6 fatty acids.  This recipe is a favorite here with our dogs, and they go nuts for these homemade treats!

For this recipe you will need:

     1 lb. of beef liver (chicken, lamb, or pork will work too.) **
      6-8 cups of chicken broth

1) Rinse liver in cool water.
2) Fill a large pot with the chicken broth, and bring to a boil.
3) Add the liver to the boiling broth and simmer for 30-45 minutes or until done.
4) Allow the liver to cool.
5) Cut liver in 1/2 inch cubes.
6) Spread on greased, foil lined cookie sheet.
7) Bake at 250. F for 2 hours.

Enjoy!

Liver should be stored in the refrigerator for approximately one week, or for about 2 months in the freezer.

Liver should be fed in moderation do the possible overdose of Vitamin A.  If you have any questions about how much liver you can feed your dog, please consult your veterinarian.  

** Do not use deer liver for this recipe.  Where venison is an excellent muscle meat to feed your dog, deer can have “liver flukes” therefore making their liver unsafe for consumption.  


Please note:  ontheurbanfarm.blogspot.com or anyone associated with this site, assumes no responsibility or liability for any consequences resulting directly or indirectly from any action or inaction taken as a result of following information contained or derived from this site or in any linked material.  Attempting to try any recipes is at the sole discretion of the reader.  The content on this blog is provided for information and entertainment purposes only.

Valentine's Day Skeptics

I've always been guilty of being a cynic when it came to Valentine's Day.  It has never mattered if I was in a long term committed relationship, or as single as a Pringle, my stance on Valentine's Day has always been the same: "It's a Hallmark holiday.  Save your money, and don't but my anything.  A card is just fine, and actually it's too much...."

What I realize now is that Valentine's Day is all about love, and in a world where hate, and negativity seem to be the new norm, we could all use more love!

So today, instead of running from Cupid and his arrows, what if we run towards him with our arms open wide, ready to receive love, and more importantly give love?

Today I encourage all of the Valentine's Day skeptics to go into the world celebrating the love you have for your significant other, family, friends. and anyone else who crosses your path.  If you have the chance today, spread love.

Treat that stranger to a cup of coffee.
Buy the roses.
Hold the door.
Hire the baby-sitter.
Thank the people who matter the most to you.
Eat dessert first.
Proclaim your love loudly.

Whatever you do, do it out of love, and spread kindness like glitter today.
Make it rain!

Happy Birthday to My Nurse!

Today is The Nurse's birthday, and as I reflect, I'm reminded just how much I love her.

To know my Nurse is to know a strong, fierce, talented, independent woman, with a wicked sense of humor and infectious laugh.  She has the tenacity of a lion, the heart of a lamb, and the mouth of a sailor.

Truthfully, I could talk about her all day, and all night, and still never run out of things to say about her.  Too many words become meaningless though, so I will just leave it at: She's the most amazing woman I have ever met, and I can't imagine not having her in my life.

Happy Birthday to the love of my life, to the woman who holds my heart, and rocks my world.

I love you forever and always.....  

Recipe: Ander's Apple Cheddar Dog Treats

I have a confession to make:  I don't cook with ease.  What I mean is, I am not a natural in the kitchen, therefore, I follow a recipe to the tee.  I've been working on my fear of mistakes in the kitchen, but I have noticed I find myself being freer when I'm cooking for the dogs.  When it comes to dog treats or food, I am a rock star!  Check out these amazing dog treats I made yesterday.  The pups LOVED them!

Ander's Apple Cheddar Dog Treats:

1/2 cup natural applesauce, no sugar added

1/2 cup honey

1 egg

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1 1/2 cups of  enriched white flour or whole wheat flour

1/2 tsp. backing soda

1/2 tsp. turmeric powder (Wonderful antioxidant!)

1/2 cup cheddar cheese, shredded

1 medium-sized apple, peeled, chopped and cored

1/4 cup unsalted walnuts, chopped

In a large bowl, mix all ingredients.  With a teaspoon, drop the dough onto greased cookie sheet, allowing about 1 inch between each treat.  Bake at 375 for 15-20 minutes.  Cookies should be firm to the touch.  Let cookies sit 2 hours to harden.

Makes approximately 40 treats.

Remember, because there are no preservatives in these treats, store in an air tight container for up to one week.  Freeze if going to keep for a longer period.

Enjoy!

Please note:  ontheurbanfarm.blogspot.com or anyone associated with this site, assumes no responsibility or liability for any consequences resulting directly or indirectly from any action or inaction taken as a result of following information contained or derived from this site or in any linked material.  Attempting to try any recipes is at the sole discretion of the reader.  The content on this blog is provided for information and entertainment purposes only.

https://the-chicken-chick.com/clever-chicks-blog-hop-270/

Woodland Creature's Grocery Fund

Saturday night The Nurse and I were driving home, and as we approached our driveway, 5 deer sauntered out into the road and in front of our car.  We both immediately got as excited as kids seeing Santa for the first time, pointing and giddy.  We finally saw the deer that have been making their rounds through our yard!

Right now it's common for deer to expand their "home radius" as food is scarce and they have to range wider in order to survive, and with the below freezing temperatures and snow we've had recently, these critters have been working overtime trying to find a meal.

We decided this week to set up a feeding station for the deer, and the other critters that eat from beneath our bird feeders.  It has taken them a few days, but this morning when I went out, there were deer, raccoon, rabbits, and skunk tracks all over!  Hopefully our donation to the woodland creature's grocery-fund helps them through these rough months.

May they will return the favor by helping me with my laundry or housework, just like on those Disney movies?!

Polar Vortex and Keeping Warm

The Polar Vortex is upon is here in the Midwest and to say it's been bitterly cold would be an understatement.  It's so cold outside that it hurts to breathe and if you're outside for even a few minutes your fingers are numb and you can't feel your face.  This morning, as my feet hit the snow, I expected it to be the usual soft snow, but instead it crunched under my feet, too cold to even give to my body weight.  

I was most worried about Chloe this morning.  The barn temperature runs about 10 degrees higher than the outside temperature, which isn't too warm when the outside temperature is -9 degrees!

I shouldn't have been worried though.  

As soon as I got to the barn, I was greeted by a hungry horse demanding breakfast, and she was warm as toast under her insulated blanket.  

There are very few joys in life as blissful as the sounds and smells of  a horse contentedly eating, even when it's below freezing outside....

Butt Raisins!

We live right smack in the middle of town, but our lot of land is 3/4 of an acre and it's semi wooded.  Across the street from our house there are more woods, and last year we found the skeletal remains of a fairly large buck, so we figured there were deer in the area.  Kay was so excited when we found that skeleton and really wanted us to have deer on our property.  Sadly, we have seen no signs of deer though ever since.

And then Mother Earth dropped over 14 inches of snow on us in the span of about a week.....

Along with the snow, it has been bitterly cold many days, and truthfully it hasn't been fit outside for man or beast.

The other morning I noticed a bunch of tracks in out front yard.  They zig-zagged back and forth between out yard, the neighbors yard, and disappeared into the woods behind the neighbor's house.  At first I thought they might have been the tracks of a rogue dog, however when Kay and Piper Ann went outside to collect the mail, Piper made this delicious (To her!) discovery.  Our new friends left us: BUTT RAISINS!

It appears our front yard had a visit from several cloven hoofed animals!  The snow must have been too deep for them to find forage, so they came over to our yard to eat a little shrubbery, and take advantage of our always stocked bird feeders.  Can't blame a beast for wanting an easy meal!  We've added chopped apples and carrots under the bird feeders for them and their raccoon counterparts to help them out.

I'm not sure who's more excited in our house.  

Kay because her deer friends are back, the deer because he has an easy meal, or Piper Ann because her new friends leave her delicious "butt raisins".

Everyone is happy here on the Urban Farm!     

Enough is enough

Several years ago, I quit dog rescue.  I couldn't handle the stupidity of people any longer.  I couldn't handle the fact that people suddenly needed to find their dog of 12 year a new home because it's fur didn't match their new couch.  (Yes, that was a thing and it was my final straw...)  I couldn't handle the inhumanity of people, and if I'm being honest, seeing people always behave at their worst made me hate people.  Rescue was tiring because it never ended.  You would place one mended heart and the next broken heart would find you before the ink dried on the first one's adoption contract.  It was a cynical, self gratifying cycle.  

In all my years of rescue I prided myself on the the fact I was never a "foster fail".  Now, there were times I did take on a dog who returned to rescue or I adopted because it was a bite case and euthanasia was the only other option, however for 22 years I never adopted a foster dog.  I was and always have been dead set against it. 

Just before Christmas, my daughter begged me to foster a dog she had fallen in love with.  This dog was in bad shape.  Definitely one of the worst cases of abuse I had ever seen.  I won't go into the specifics, but Rodger Dog had never known kindness in his life, had never known consistently being fed, and the abuse left him physically and emotionally incomplete.  Rodger Dog was terribly dog aggressive when he arrived here out of  fear, had separation anxiety something terrible, and his eyes eluded to the fact he didn't really care about life anymore.  I told my daughter that Rodger Dog could only stay with us long enough for me to find a rescue who would take him.  I told her, we didn't need another dog.  I told her not to got get attached, because he was not staying.  The truth of the matter is this though:  I couldn't give him up.

Perhaps it was the hollow look in his eyes, perhaps it was the hunched over posture that said:  "I can't do this anymore."  Perhaps it was the fact this dog showed absolutely no emotion what so ever with his body, or maybe it was the way he slept when he finally realized he was safe.  I don't know.  I have no idea what made me finally say:  "Enough is enough."  But, enough is enough.  

This dog is here to stay.  There is something fragile about Rodger that I can't quite put my finger on.  He's learning to be a dog again, learning how his new body works, and supposedly dogs don't generalize, but I can't help but wonder: "What if he feels safe for the first time in his life?  What if he thinks he's "home" only to have his life uprooted again?  What if he leaves us to go to a rescue and wonders where we went?"  I can't let him be lost, confused or feel pain again.  There is something about his broken heart that deserves someone saying enough is enough.

Goodbye 2018, You Won't Be Missed!

Last week as we said good-bye to 2018, I was as elated as a stay-at-home mom sending her children back to school after a summer full of refereeing arguments.

2018 shook me to my core.
It rattled my being.

It taught me what the word grief meant.

It nearly broke me.

I'm not normally one to wish moments away, but I had to remind myself continually in 2018 that all bleeding stops eventually, though many times I wasn't sure if that was true or how it would happen, and I found myself longing for a less chaotic life.

2018 was a huge reminder of just how fleeting and inestimable life is, and it has been the hardest year of my life thus far. The feelings of despair and sadness I've felt over the last year tops any and all other years of my life combined.

I am praying that 2109 takes notes from 2018 on what not to do!  Regardless, I am marching into 2019 warrior style, determined to live intentionally, and vowing to get my life back on track.  Life is too short not to, 2018 taught me that....